


I've Been Doing Stupid Things

by TheDirtyBirdie-Archive (TheDirtyBirdie)



Series: Don't You Know I Ain't Fucking with Them Good Boys [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Ass to Mouth, Breathplay, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mild Face-Sitting, Morning Sex, Possessive Behavior, Somnophilia, Vaguely Canon-Adjacent, painal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:26:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDirtyBirdie/pseuds/TheDirtyBirdie-Archive
Summary: Peter does not freak out. He wakes up to Wade's breath on his neck and a very new ache inside of him and he absolutelydoes not freak out.





	I've Been Doing Stupid Things

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a fun little morning sex follow up to the first fic, which I'd suggest reading first, if you haven't already (not... that there's a ton of plot to follow). I'll be posting a longer work in the series in the next day or two.
> 
> As always, please **read the tags**! Though, if you were into the first fic I'm sure this'll be no problem.
> 
> Once again, title is from Ariana Grande's song _Bad Decisions_. I've decided that all of the titles for this series are going to be pulled from her music, for the sake of continuity (and laziness).
> 
> **22/02/2018 22:35 EST:** Minor revisions made

 

Peter wakes up with Wade's breath on the back of his neck, solid chest rising and falling steadily against his back, and a very new, very prominent ache inside of him. 

He spends a few long moments languishing in the pleasant soreness of his body, until he shifts back and-oh. Yup. That's definitely Wade's cock that's pressing into his ass. That wakes him up pretty quickly, and with the clarity of wakefulness come the very, very vivid memories of last night, now without the haze of sleep to dim his embarrassment.

He hadn't exactly managed to be cool about things. He had, in fact, been the polar opposite of cool. He'd been... desperate, really. There's no denying that it definitely did it for Wade, and honestly it sends a curl of arousal through his gut when he turns over the memories in his mind, but still. That was not exactly how he expected the night to go. Not even what he hoped for, he's pretty sure he didn't even know it could go like that to hope for it in the first place. Maybe on some level he had a feeling, but he's really not sure what he was thinking, anymore. All of his thoughts and expectations were so thoroughly blown to smithereens that it feels impossible to remember with much clarity.

He's distracted from his thoughts by the sound of his phone buzzing on the coffee table across the room and-oh god. His phone. _Wade's_ phone.

 _The_   _pictures._

 ** _The_** **_fucking video_**.

Shit. He trusts Wade, he does. He's pretty sure he has to, now. But, Peter knows better than most just how hackable most tech is, knowing Wade has that on his phone isn't exactly a great feeling. 

He's swiftly headed down the road to full blown panic when Wade groans sleepily behind him, grinding his hips into Peter's and, well, there's a distraction. The way he sees it, he has two choices. He can sit here, freaking out silently until Wade wakes up and then beg him to erase the video, at least, or he can decide he's not going to think about that right now and distract himself with Wade's cock.

The choice is obvious.

Besides, he reasons, maybe Wade will be more amenable to doing him a favour if he gets to wake up with Peter already on his cock, one way or another. Not to mention, he never  _did_ get to ride Wade last night. He grins, panic turning quickly to giddiness, and carefully slips from Wade's grip to run to the bathroom and run a wet washcloth over his stomach, wiping off the dried come from last night. As he does, he can't help observing himself in the mirror, and, shit. He was not wrong about Wade's ability to leave bites and bruises that would outlast his healing factor for a while. Tentative fingers rise to his side and press into the bruises on his hips just enough to make him shiver, the phantom memory of Wade's hands putting them there chases him out of the bathroom. 

He spends a minute searching around the bed for the bottle of lube the older man had tossed aside carelessly the night before, and carefully as he can crawls back the bed, triumphant. He nudges down the blankets until Wade's cock is exposed, lying half hard against his thigh. 

Peter gently pushes Wade onto his back and carefully swings a leg over to kneel on either side of his thighs, careful rest his weight on him and risk waking him prematurely. 

When he squeezes the lube into the palm of his hand, he can't help noticing that his hands are shaking slightly. Thrill shoots down his spine, and he finds he's full of nervous anticipation that makes his body quiver. He drops the bottle to the side, and takes a moment to rub his hands together to warm the lube before reaching out to wrap them around Wade's cock. The heavy heat of him makes Peter shiver when he remembers the feel of it in his mouth, and-yeah. Fuck. 

He's got other plans but he can't resist the urge to taste him again. 

A shuddering breath leaves him as he leans down to slide his tongue over the salty head of Wade's cock, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to it. He can feel Wade getting thicker under his mouth, in his hands, and the heat of it sends a frisson of arousal through his nerves. He's sharply aware of the fact that just hours ago this was _inside of him_ , it makes his face burn, and it reminds him of the larger goal he's set out towards, stopping him from getting too caught up in the sensation of having Wade in his mouth again. 

He pulls off with one final lick and a kiss pressed to the tip of his cock, then shimmies his way carefully up the bed until he's bracing himself right over Wade's cock. He lets his head fall back and his eyes close as he reaches back to rub the remaining lube over himself and finds that-fuck, yeah. He's definitely still tender. It hurts when he presses against himself, but he can't help feeling there's something sweet about the ache, knowing how it came to be. He breaches himself with two fingers, only just managing to hold back a groan at the sharp stretch inside him. 

He doesn't spend long on himself, now fully hard and impatient to get Wade inside of him before he loses his nerve. He braces one hand on Wade's hip, and slips his fingers out, already aching to be filled again, to grip's Wade's cock with the other. For a moment, he simply appreciates the anticipation of having Wade against him as he hadn't had the chance to do last night, unable to resist a roll of his hips, dragging Wade's cock down the crease of him, reveling in the feel of it. Letting a shudder roll over his body, he finally lines his hips up and bears down, moving painfully slow over the initial stretch of being breached in order to drag out every last moment of his muscles crying out in protest. 

Once the head of Wade's cock has slipped past the first ring of muscle, his hand slips back to clutch at the other man's thigh, and he sinks down fully, coming to rest his weight on Wade's hips, he's unable hold back a moan. It burns, oh god, it burns  _so much_. More now than it did last night. He's not sure if it's because he's just more aware of it than he was then, going slower, without all of the night's frantic, dizzying build-up to keep him from being able to focus in on any one sensation, or if it's simply because he's still sore. Likely both. 

Letting his head tip back and closing his eyes shut, he stays like that a long moment. Focusing on one deep breath at a time.

_Inhale. Exhale._

_Inhale. Exhale._

Once he feels ready, he tries rolling and rocking his hips, back and forth, experimentally. Testing the feeling of it, how ready he is to move for real. 

When he finally opens his eyes, Wade is staring back at him. 

"Hey." He manages, breathless.  
"Oh my  _god_." Wade replies. "You're actually trying to kill me, aren't you? That's been your plan all along. Death by sex." He groans, grabbing Peter by the hips to grind up into him.  
" _Fuck_ , Wade-"  
"Hate to break it to you, baby boy, but even that isn't going to work. I've gotta say, though, if I actually could die, like, for real for real, this would be the way to go." Peter huffs out a laugh as he pitches himself forward to brace his hands on Wade's chest, beginning to rock back and forth in earnest, spurred on by Wade. "I'm flattered."

Wade's hands have started running the length of his sides, sometimes stopping to squeeze hard at his waist and hips while Peter tries to find his rhythm on top of him. The pain has dulled, but not as much as he expected, he wants to tell Wade as much but he can't seem to find the words. Knowing that he'd probably get off on the knowledge that Peter is pushing himself through this just to be able to have Wade inside of him, make him come. That he chases the pain just to make sure he's really feeling  _everything_ Wade can give him. Fuck. 

Once Peter has found his pace, steadily working up from rocking to bouncing on his cock, Wade uses one arm to push himself until he's halfway up, while the other wraps around Peter's waist and pulls him in close enough to kiss.  
"You know," He starts, voice low as they share breath and trade messy, bitten-off kisses. "I was a little worried, baby boy."  
"Worried about what?" Peter pants out against his lips. He brings his hands up to clutch at Wade's neck and shoulders, unable to stop running his hands over sweat-slick skin as they move together. Wade dips his head to mouth at his neck and Peter lets his head fall back with a pleasured sigh.

"Worried about you, waking up." Wade speaks into his neck. "Worried you wouldn't still want this once you'd had some time to think about it. Worried you wouldn't still mean what you'd said." He bites down, hard, on Peter's clavicle, making him moan. His tone is ominous but there's a sincere undercurrent that makes Peter ache to put his mind at ease. He brings his hands up to Wade's face, pushing him back enough that he can look at him properly.  
"I meant it, Wade. I'm yours." He shivers. "Whatever you want." Anything guarded about Wade's expression falls away, then, overtaken by something restless and deeply, intensely wanting. 

"Alright, baby boy." He growls, sitting up and moving them back on the bed without dislodging Peter, making him shiver at the reminder of how easily Wade can push him around, until he's able to lean back against the Wall, firm hands dropping to keep a painfully tight grip on Peter's ass. "I think it's time to let daddy take the reigns. What do you think, sweetheart?"

"Yes." Peter moans, head dropping back once again. " _Please_."

He definitely doesn't have to ask twice. Wade plants his feet, leans back to brace himself against the wall, and starts fucking up into Peter so hard he feels it in his fucking bones. It's impossible to even meet Wade's thrusts, the way he's slamming into him and dragging his hips down to meet every one. 

Wade is relentless. Giving Peter no chance to find his balance or adjust to the brute force of his thrusts, overwhelming him with sheer, raw sensation until Peter is, once again, stupidly close to coming untouched, in what feels like no time flat. He's sure he'll finish soon, so close he can taste it, but he just can't quite seem to get there. He rides the cusp of orgasm so long tears start to spring to his eyes.

"Please," He begs, desperate. "Please, Wade. Daddy. Please." He's not even sure what he's asking for.  
"Shhh, shh baby boy." Wade soothes. "I know what you need." His body is still crying out desperately for release, but a sense of peace fills his mind when Wade speaks. He knew he could trust Wade to take care of him. To know what he needs even when he doesn't know it himself. Whatever he wants, Peter is sure it's right. He meant what he said. 

A strong hand comes up to wrap around his throat, and unlike either of the times last night, there is no ambiguity about the purpose. He starts to squeeze and Peter's hands fly up to grip his arm, but he doesn't try to push him away, merely holds on, unable to convince his body to relax, but not quite afraid enough to take the last logical step and try to get away.

"Relax, baby boy." Wade croons softly. "Daddy's got you. Gonna take care of you." His grip tightens until Peter is gasping and choking for air, head beginning to feel light. Adrenalin is flooding his body but he's still not fighting Wade's grip. He shakes as sparks begin to dance across his vision and a hot, wrenching pressure like he's never felt before builds in his abdomen. Wade is still fucking up into him incessantly and hard as ever, harder, even, and between that and the dizziness of his quickly diminishing oxygen supply, Peter is beginning to lose all sense of the space around him. It's becoming sincerely difficult to hold on to consciousness when Wade shifts the angle of his hips and- _fuck_. 

Peter's orgasm rolls over him with crushing force. He's certain his vision goes grey, for a moment, and time seems to slow with how much his head is swimming from his climax. Christ. He'd heard of people being choked during sex, but it was always vague. He'd never known it could be like that. 

He's not even managed to gain his bearings when Wade pushes him down onto his back. He goes easy, legs splayed and arms stretched out above him. Wade crawls up over his body until he's kneeling over Peter's face, pulling himself off, cock bumping repeatedly against Peter's face. Without much thought, he opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue to mouth lazily at Wade's balls. The older man groans and pulls back just enough to rub his cock over Peter's tongue, dragging it along his face, back and forth, smearing come across his face and occasionally catching just enough to dip into his mouth where Peter give small, languid sucks, licks, and kisses. 

Peter's hands come down to drift over Wade's thighs when he comes, painting stripes across Peter's face while he smiles up at Wade lazily and licks his lips to catch a taste. Wade milks himself empty over Peter's open mouth, muttering a non-stop stream of incoherent praise that warms Peter all over, and leaves his cock to bob over Peter's face a while longer, enjoying the sight and sensation of Peter cleaning him off. He looks for all the world as if there's nowhere he'd rather be than here, with Wade's spent cock in his mouth and come on his face, fresh bruises in the shape of his hand blooming over his slender neck. 

That's-well. Shit, it's a whole lot more than he deserves, but Wade is selfish, and he's  _never_ letting Peter get away. How could he, after this? The way he looks now, it's addicting. The way he begs, the way he  _wants_ , it would take a much better man than Wade to turn that down. 

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~Y'all don't know how real the temptation to include ass to mouth was. For real.~~ Oops, did it anyways. I'm gonna introduce some new toys and kinks in the next work in the series, don't worry, dirtybirds ♥
> 
> Feel free to drop a request or come say hello in the comments below or [on tumblr](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/)/[twitter](https://twitter.com/dirtbirdie)!
> 
> P.S. This is not beta read, so feel free to point out any errors I've missed, I'd appreciate it!   
> 


End file.
